


My Spirit Swims Beneath

by Sheegwa



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Pining, Road Trips, Selkies, Slow Burn, Song of the Sea AU, the fluffiest of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 14:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15951116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheegwa/pseuds/Sheegwa
Summary: Keith is the runaway foster child who thinks he’s better off by himself. Lance is the loud-mouthed hopeless romantic with a huge secret. In a world swimming with magic, their close childhood friendship blooms into something more.





	My Spirit Swims Beneath

**Author's Note:**

> This piece of fiction has dominated my life for the past week and it. Is. Finally. Done. Please enjoy.
> 
> NOTE: There is an intense scene depicting drowning (though the person is saved before they actually drown) from the line "Keith was waist deep" until the line "But then a pair of hands grabbed him from under his shoulders."
> 
> Based on a Song of the Sea AU @elentori-art

_7 years old_

Keith was running away. A lone 7-year-old, on the run from his new home, his new guardians, and the cold climate of Washington state he wasn’t used to. He was going to travel from Washington back to New Mexico. Possibly by freight train. In New Mexico, he could camp in the desert, live off the land, and stay hidden from school and child protection services with nothing but the clothes on his back. It wasn’t a full proof plan, but it was currently his best option. 

He climbed determinedly up a grassy hill, his hands clenched into fists, the cold wind stinging his face. The sky overhead was a foreboding grey, and the long, dry grass whipped his knees and waist. 

As Keith trudged alone, up the side of the hill, a small boy in a blue sweater appeared on the hilltop. Keith’s steps, which initially held great purpose, came to a confused halt. The churning anger in his stomach evaporated into a swarm of butterflies.The boy on the hilltop had short brown hair that curled at the ends and a light spray of freckles dotting his nose. In his hands, he clutched a large spiraling shell with a pearly surface. Keith stared, not wanting to get any closer but, at the same time, wanting to study every inch of the new boy’s face. 

As he stood, confused and bewildered by the newness inside of him, the other boy took notice of Keith. His blue eyes widened and his face split into an eager smile. He bounded down the hill towards Keith, causing a surprised flush to rise to Keith’s cheeks. 

“Hey! Wanna play together?” 

Keith didn’t know what to do. Back at his old home, other kids never asked to play with him. In fact, children and adults alike actively avoided him. He was the the loose canon, the anger management case, the problem child. He wondered if this new boy would also decide to avoid Keith after playing together. Probably. _He’ll probably decide he hates me as much as everyone else does._

So Keith simply stood, frozen to the spot, saying nothing. He prayed to whatever gods were out there that the boy in the blue sweater just wouldn’t hate him. 

The new boy tucked his giant shell under one arm. “Ookay,” the boy said, squinting at Keith, “So You don’t want to play? 

Keith still couldn’t bring himself to respond. 

“Wait, can you talk? Are you not able to talk?” 

Angry heat rushed to Keith’s face. “I can talk!”

“Oh. I see. So you just don’t want to talk to _me?”_

“I mostly play by myself,” Keith said, with a little more sharpness than necessary. 

“Okay dude, I won’t bother you.” The boy held up his free hand and looked ready to back away. 

Keith was doing a great job of making the new boy not hate him so far. The butterflies in his stomach suddenly and painfully turned into a series of complicated knots. He had to do something to stop the boy before he walked away. Anything. 

“What-what’s that?” He blurted out, pointing at the shell under the other boy’s arm. 

The boy froze in place, startled. He slowly held out the shell he had tucked under his arm for Keith to see. 

“This is my flute. My mom gave it to me. It’s made from a shell, so when you hold it up to your ear you can hear the ocean.” 

Good. This was good. The boy was actually talking to him. 

Keith bit his lip, looking down at the new boy’s shell. Of course he had an amazing mother who gave him beautiful gifts. He would probably feel sorry for Keith whose mother had left him when he was a baby. His mother who had never left so much as a note. 

He looked up at the boy who was still looking expectantly at Keith for an answer. 

Right, talking. He needed to keep talking.

“Can you play it?” Keith asked, pointing to the shell.

“Sure can.”

The boy held the flute to his lips, so the spiraling side faced outwards towards Keith. A melody poured out, like moonlit water. The lullaby ebbed and flowed in Keith’s ears, slowly submerging him in a sea of peaceful song.

For a moment he forgot to be scared and angry. Keith felt scared and angry most of the time. Life was too hard for him and he constantly had to fight to make his way through. But right now he could forget about life, just a little bit. He could sink into the calming music and the presence of the new boy. He could pretend that everything was alright. 

When the boy finished Keith couldn’t do anything but stare at him. Maybe it was the freckles. The oversized sweater. The music. Maybe all three, but Keith was unable to tear his eyes away. 

The boy smiled down at him proudly. “The name’s Lance.” 

“Keith.” 

“Nice to meet you, Keith.”

——

_16 years old_

Keith wasn’t ready for the crowded halls of his high school at 8am Monday morning. 

He walked blearily through the front doors of the school, still a little damp from the rain and tried to ignore the wet dog smell emanating from the majority of the high school student body.

Keith slipped through the crowds of moist (because that was the only word gross enough to describe them) students unnoticed, and was quietly, invisibly slipping books into his locker, when a large hand came down on his back. 

Keith yelled in surprise, and nearly dropped his textbooks for basic chemistry on the ground.

“Dude, relax. It’s just me.” Keith’s body immediately eased at the sound of Hunk’s voice. 

“Geez Hunk, don’t scare me like that,” Keith grumbled. 

“Well, morning to you too,” Hunk answered with a chuckle. Hunk had a natural warmth, even when he was being sarcastic, which Keith greatly appreciated at whatever ungodly hour school started. 

Keith’s gaze gradually traveled from Hunk to the smaller figure at his side, who was fixing Keith with an unwavering death glare. 

“Hey Pidge, what’s up?” Keith smirked. 

“What’s up?” Pidge continued to glare at Keith before readjusting their glasses, a motion Keith had come to recognize as a precursor to lecturing, “I’ll tell you what’s up. I learn from Romelle, who heard from Olia, who heard from Nadia, who heard from Ryan Kinkade _last_ week that you got kicked off the soccer team. And I’m just hearing about it now.” 

Keith blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Keith, I thought we were _friends._ You’re supposed to tell us when things happen in your life,” Pidge said exasperatedly.

“Pidge and I are just worried about you,” Hunk said a little more gently, putting a hand on Keith’s shoulder. 

Keith looked down at his black rain boots, squirming slightly under Hunk’s touch. He wasn’t used to friends being concerned about him this way. 

“You don’t have to tell us everything, but it feels like you don’t tell us anything,” Pidge said, “And we want you to know that we’re here for you.”

A strange lump appeared in Keith’s throat. Pidge and Hunk had only become his friends within the past year, but they were already determined to care for and support him. Again, he wasn’t used to this kind of kindness.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you guys worry. And I didn’t mean for you to find out-” he quickly calculated the degree of separation “-fifthand. I just… I’m not very good at things like sharing my feelings. I’m just not used to it.” 

Pidge’s expression softened. 

“It’s okay, just know that we care about you. And we want to know when something is hard for you so we can be there for you.” 

Keith’s lips turned up into a soft, tentative smile. “Thanks guys.”

“Hey, what friends are for?” Pidge smiled back warmly. The touching moment only lasted a few seconds before Pidge’s smile morphed from earnestness to mischief. 

“So what’s this I hear about you getting into a fight? With James Griffin? On the soccer team? Spill the deets.” 

“Yeah, the deets, the juicy deets,” Hunk chanted in agreement. 

Keith groaned and ran his hands through his hair. 

“What’s there to say? Griffin told me to pass the ball more often and I told him he needed to be a more solid offense if I was ever going to give him the ball.” 

Pidge and Hunk nodded understandingly. 

Keith gritted his teeth, remembering what happened next in the chain of events. 

“Then he accused me of always trying to show off for… other people… and I punched him in the jaw.” 

“You just punched him? That’s not too-“

“And then I threw him into a goalpost and he got a concussion. We ended practice early because he had to go to the hospital.” 

Pidge’s eyes widened behind their glasses in alarm. Hunk gaped at Keith. 

“You. Wow. Remind me to never get on your bad side,” he murmured incredulously. 

Keith grimaced and nodded in response before continuing. 

“When I got home, Adam and Shiro were both really mad at me. Adam lectured me about legal liabilities and how Griffin’s family could press charges against me. Shiro was on the phone with them for an hour apologizing and explaining the situation. Coach Iverson kicked me off because I was a danger to the team. So yeah.” 

“Holy shit,” Pidge muttered, “And all of this because James called you a… show-off?” 

“Well, he said I-“

Keith was interrupted mid-sentence as a lanky boy in an army jacket, blue jeans, and terrible bedhead slid up to the row of lockers. Keith internally groaned as Lance haphazardly threw his arm around Keith’s neck. 

Lance grinned wildly, hair sticking up at all the wrong angles. “Guess who finished half of their math homework at 7 in the morning _and_ made it to school before the first bell?” 

“Lance, I don’t think that’s something to be proud of,” Hunk said. 

“What? Breaking my long-running streak of getting to school late? My streak of finishing exactly 0% my homework?”

“You’ve set the bar incredibly low for yourself,” Pidge pointed out, “What you just did is the bare minimum for not failing high school.”

“Hey, I passed 2 years of high school living life on the edge. And I have good reasons for being late,” Lance snapped. He elbowed Keith in the ribs. “Keith knows. Right Keith?” 

Keith groaned.

“Do you really have to take your-“ he stopped himself, realizing the inevitable negative ramifications for what he was about to say. He mentally scrambled for an alternative ending to his sentence. 

“Your, uh, your… walks across the beach…every night?” 

Lance’s face drained of color. His voice cracked as he answered Keith.

“Um, I don’t go every night. Just like three times a week. It keeps my, uh, my…. face…. beautiful,” he finished weakly. 

Keith shot Lance a disgusted look as Hunk and Pidge looked on in confusion. 

“How exactly does taking nightly walks across the beach enhance your beauty?” Hunk asked slowly. 

Keith and Lance both looked at each other, their eyes filled with a barely disguised panic.

“Well look at the time!” Lance announced. He grabbed Keith by the shoulders and steered him into the hallway. “It’s been great talking to you, but we need to get going. Class starts in a few minutes!” 

“What?” Pidge cried in in disbelief, “Your first class is only a hundred feet away!” But Lance was already wheeling Keith down the hall. 

“Walks across the beach?” he hissed in Keith’s ear, “Is that the best you could think of?” 

“It was the first thing that popped into my head after you put me on the spot,” Keith grumbled, “And what did you say again? You take walks on the beach to keep your face beautiful? How is that any better than what I said?” 

“It’s kind of hard to think of good explanations when I’ve only slept for 4 hours,” Lance snapped, “What’s your excuse?”

The door of Lance and Keith’s shared first period class was still locked. As Pidge said, the classroom was only a hundred feet away from Keith’s locker and took under a minute to walk to. From the classroom door, Keith could see Pidge and Hunk, still standing in the same spot and looking very confused. He saw Hunk shoot him a questioning look, but Keith avoided eye contact by pretending to be deeply interested in a nearby water fountain. 

“Ugh, I’m so tired,” Lance groaned from behind Keith. He dramatically buried his face into Keith’s shoulder, “I hate this.”

For the second time that morning, Keith felt something warm blooming in his stomach. He lightly pressed his back into Lance’s chest. For some reason, he had always been a little more open to Lance touching him. James Griffin definitely thought–

No. Keith pushed James Griffin to the back of his mind. 

“Anyway, thanks for trying your best to cover me back there,” Lance was muttering from behind Keith’s shoulder, “You know, after you royally screwed up.” Lance snorted. 

Keith smirked. 

“No problem. Anytime.” 

The two boys stood in amicable silence while Lance remained, comfortably leaning against Keith. But after a few moments, Lance spoke, his voice filled with hesitancy. 

“Do you think... I could say that the magnetism of the moon helps pull dirt out of my skin or something? And that I only take walks at night because that’s when magnetic moon powers are strongest?”

“I don’t know what to say because that is so completely scientifically inaccurate,” Keith said, “But I’m pretty sure Ms. Ryner would slap you if she heard you saying that. What you said is _that wrong.”_

“Our chemistry teacher would do no such thing! She loves me! And besides, my explanation doesn’t have to be accurate! I just need to make Hunk and Pidge think that I believe in it.” 

Keith frowned, considering the situation carefully. “You have a C- in science, so claiming that you believe whatever scientific bullshit you just pulled out of your ass _could_ work,” Keith turned towards his friend, “But it would be a stretch.”

“I’ll really try to get into it! Channel my inner conspiracy theorist. Be like, ‘How do _you_ know the moon works that way? You haven’t been there!’”

Keith snorted. “Yeah, sound really angry when they try to correct you. Talk about how all dirt is inherently magnetic or something. It shouldn’t be too hard. You’ll be fine.” 

Lance sighed, “Thanks buddy. ”

“Sure,” Keith said, leaning his head against Lance’s and closing his eyes.

——-

_8 years old_

Keith stared anxiously at Lance’s house through the car windshield. His view was somewhat obscured by Adam and Shiro in the front seat, but he could still glimpse the small white beach house with peeling paint and a rickety front porch. 

Keith was going to his first sleepover. He wasn't sure why he was so anxious. He had passed through new households many times before as a foster child. But this was different. 

“Ready?” Shiro looked back at Keith from the driver’s seat. Keith nodded wordlessly and clambered out of the car. 

He stood by the trunk as Adam unlocked it and handed Keith his overnight bag. 

Keith trailed behind as Adam and Shiro walked up to Lance’s front door. He stood directly behind Adam when Shiro knocked, studying the way his sneakers contrasted with the whitewashed porch. 

From behind the door came the sound of pounding footsteps, quickly growing louder. BAM BAM BAM BAM. Keith edged a little farther behind Adam as the knob on the front door began to twist back and forth violently. 

“Lance you have to unlock the door first,” a girl’s voice sounded from inside the house. 

“I know what I’m doing Veronica!” came the shrill, and slightly muffled reply. 

A few moments of aggressive knob twisting later, Lance triumphantly threw open the door. Behind him stood an unimpressed teenage girl with glasses eating from a yogurt carton. 

“Hey Keith!” 

He looked up at Shiro and Adam.

“Hey Keith’s parents!”

_Good guess_ , Keith snickered. He felt some of the nervousness melt away as he picked up his bag and walked towards Lance. Lance grinned and threw both of his arms around Keith in a bone-crushing hug. Keith stiffened slightly in surprise, but quickly relaxed as Lance lead him inside the warm house. 

“Would you like to come inside too?” Keith heard Veronica ask. 

“Oh, if it’s not too much trouble,” Keith heard Shiro reply, as he and Adam followed Veronica through the doorway. 

Lance’s home was bright and stuffy. The living room was crowded with dusty wooden furniture and framed photographs. A girl looking only a few years older than Keith sat on the floral print couch playing with her phone, while a teenage boy sprawled across an afghan on the floor aimlessly flipped through television channels. The clanking sound of pots and pans came from the direction of the kitchen. 

“Keith and his family are here!” Veronica announced. 

“Keith!” a tall man with a beard appeared in the kitchen entry. “Welcome!” 

“This is my dad,” Lance explained proudly, pointing to the bearded man. 

He pointed to the girl who had let Shiro and Adam inside.

“This is my older sister, Veronica.”

He then pointed to the rest of the living room, “My brother Luis and my sister Rachel. And grandma and Marco are somewhere over there,” Lance gestured vaguely to the rest of the house. 

Lance’s dad extended his hand to Shiro and Adam. 

“Hello, you are Keith’s–?” 

“Yeah, are you guys his parents? Cause one of you doesn’t really look like him, no offense,” Lance interjected. 

“Lance!” Veronica smacked Lance on the back of the head, “Shut up!”

Lance glared at his sister and wound both of his arms under one of Keith’s arms. His cheek pressed into Keith’s shoulder sullenly. 

“I was just _asking_ ,” Keith heard Lance grumble under his breath. 

Shiro chuckled. “Actually we’re his guardians. I think we’re a little young to be having kids Keith’s age on our own.” 

“I believe Keith is your… father’s cousin’s child?” Adam recounted slowly. 

“Yeah,” Shiro nodded, “And he’s been living with my husband and I for a year now.” 

“Hey Keith’s guardian, since you two are both guys, did you have a man wedding?” Lance blurted out. 

Shiro turned around in confusion, “I’m sorry, a _what_?”

“Like at regular weddings there’s a bride and she has to wear a dress and there’s all these flowers and stuff. But since neither of you were girls you probably didn’t have to do all that, right? Instead of flowers you could just hold guns. Or knives or something.”

Shiro laughed.

“Men can have flowers at their weddings too, you know. Flowers aren’t just for girls.” 

“We did have people at our wedding holding swords though,” Adam said thoughtfully. 

Lance’s eyes widened. “Really?” 

“Mmhmm. Takashi and I met while we were going through military training and we got married on our base. The other members of our regiment performed a saber arch at our wedding ceremony, where they made a tunnel with their swords and we had to pass through. It was very romantic,” Adam smiled and gave Shiro’s arm an extra tug. 

Lance looked at Shiro and Adam in absolute awe.

“That’s so cool,” he said breathlessly, “You’re so cool.” He turned to Keith. “Your guardians are so cool.” Keith smiled and nodded shyly. 

“That is cool. Very cool,” Lance’s dad smiled, “Well thank you for letting us have Keith over for the night. We promise we’ll take good care of him.” 

And with that, Adam and Shiro turned to go. 

“Bye Keith, we’ll see you tomorrow.” Adam ruffled Keith’s hair gently. 

“Bye buddy. Can I have a hug?” Shiro smiled, holding out an arm for Keith to slip under. Both Adam and Shiro had realized early on that Keith wasn’t much of a hugger. But they compromised with things Keith was more comfortable with. Side hugs. Bro hugs. And slowly Keith had begun to be more comfortable with touching them. And depending on them. Coming home to them. 

Keith walked under Shiro’s arm and felt a reassuring squeeze of his shoulders. 

He quietly waved goodbye as his guardians walked out the door. 

——

_10 years old_

Keith and Lance were having yet another sleepover at Lance’s house. Keith sighed as the cool breeze of Lance’s box fan wafted over him. He was lying on Lance’s floor in a sleeping bag while Lance was in the bed above. The digital clock on Lance’s bedside read 11:30 pm. 

“Only 30 more minutes,” Lance breathed from above Keith.

“And then we can go?”

“And then we can go.” 

“I-I think I might fall asleep before then,” Keith yawned. 

“What? No! Come on!” 

“I’m sorry, I ca-can’t help it,” Keith yawned again. 

He felt a foot come down, smooshing the side of his face. 

“Lansh! Whad da hell?”

“Stay awakeee Keith, stay awakeee,” Lance intoned. He pushed the balls of his feet into Keith’s cheek, causing Keith’s head to roll from his pillow to the floor. 

“I fugig haesh you,” Keith growled, and made a grab for Lance’s ankle. But Lance was too quick for him, jumping back onto his bed. Keith groaned from the floor. 

“Hey I know what we should do,” Lance grinned down at Keith, “We should play truth or dare while we wait.” 

Keith had never played truth or dare before, but the title seemed pretty self-explanatory. He wasn’t sure why Lance looked like he had just had the idea of the century, but he was too tired to really ask questions. 

“Okay,” Keith nodded, “Let’s go.” He picked himself off the floor and hopped onto Lance’s bed. The two boys sat, shoulder to shoulder, their backs leaning against the bedroom wall. 

 

“I’ll start,” Lance decided, “by asking you. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Keith said. It seemed like the safer choice. 

Lance smiled at Keith deviously. 

“Who do you have a crush on?” 

“A crush?” Keith had seen TV shows and movies where people fell in love, but it all still seemed ridiculous to him. Shiro and Adam were a couple, but he wasn’t sure if people had crushes on each other once they were actually married. He frowned.

“No one.”

“Come on, Keith, tell me!” Lance leaned in so his chin was resting on Keith’s shoulder, “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t have a crush on anyone.”

“Are you sureee…?”

Keith could tell Lance wasn’t going to accept “no one” as an answer. He racked his brain for a girl whose name he could easily throw out. 

“Uhhh, her name is Axca.”

During the year, Keith and Lance went to separate elementary schools. While Lance had many friends at his school, Keith was usually alone. The only other person he hung around was the other quiet kid in his grade, a girl named Axca. They were friends, maybe. If Keith was ever forced into dating a girl, he thought he could live with dating Axca. 

Lance looked betrayed for a moment, but it must have been Keith’s imagination, because a moment later, Lance was grinning at him like a cheshire cat. 

“You know, I have a _girlfriend.”_

“Ew, are you serious?”

“Yeah, her name is Jenny. Jenny Shayban.” Lance was looking closely at Keith, as if waiting for something to happen. Keith just glared at his friend and shoved his face away. 

“Stop it, I can feel you breathing on me. With your gross breath.”

Lance cackled as he flopped back onto the sheets, before sitting up again with a renewed air of seriousness. 

“I’m dating her but I think I’m gonna break up with her when school starts again. All we do is hold hands and say we love each other. Sometimes I want to go play basketball but noooo…” Lance huffs, “Dating is such a pain. I don’t know how Veronica and Marco do it.”

He turned to Keith. 

“Now it’s your turn to ask me.”

Keith nodded. 

“Truth or dare?”

“Uhhh… dare.” Lance bounced eagerly. 

“Go outside and scream ‘My name is Lance and I’m an idiot.’”

“We can’t scream because it might wake up someone. And you know…” Lance glanced at the clock on his table.

“Oh yeah. I forgot. Well, just say it to me then.”

“My name is Keith and I’m an idiot,” Lance recited, looking Keith dead in the eye. 

“You-!” Keith grabbed a pillow and shoved it into Lance’s face. 

“That’s not what I asked you to say,” he hissed, peeling back the pillow slightly. Underneath, Lance’s face had turned red from laughter. 

“My name is Ke-ei-” Keith pressed the pillow over Lance’s face again, before pulling it back a second time.

“My name is Lance and I’m an idiot,” Lance gasped between giggles. 

Satisfied, Keith placed the pillow back in its place and laid down next to Lance, smiling. 

“Okay, truth or dare?”

“Truth.” Keith decided that he wanted to avoid whatever weird dare Lance would inevitably have for him as long as possible. 

Beside Keith, Lance stilled, quietly looking up at the ceiling. 

“Mmmm…” Lance hesitated, “My sisters told me not to ask you this but I want to know... Why were you adopted?”

Keith sighed and stared up at the ceiling. He had answered this question many times over the years. It felt like an old scar that his fingers already knew the shape of, something he was always tracing over out of habit. 

“My mom left my dad and I when I was just a baby. And then my dad died when I was 3. After that I became a ward of the state.”

“What’s a ward of the state?”

“It means the state gives people money to take care of me. And also they find a new home for me if my guardian doesn’t want to take care of me anymore.”

Keith closed his eyes and sighed. 

“But Shiro and Adam would never stop being your guardians though, right?”

Keith shrugged. 

“I guess. Shiro is related to me, after all.”

“Your other guardians weren’t?”

“No. They couldn’t find someone related to me to take care of me for 4 years. They just had me going around to random people’s homes. Shiro and Adam only decided to take me in after they were discharged from the military.”

“Ah,” Lance said. 

Keith hugged his knees to his chin. He didn’t want to talk about being an orphan anymore. He didn’t like thinking about how he was missing out by not having parents. He didn’t like thinking about how Adam and Shiro had spent 4 years not being his guardians because they had better things to do. And he definitely didn’t want to think about the possibility of Adam and Shiro getting tired of being his guardians and sending him away. 

“Are you okay?” Lance asked. 

“Yeah.” Keith stared at the wall. He felt Lance’s hand on his shoulder. He tried to ignore it. 

“Keith, it’s your turn. Ask me something. Or dare me.” 

Keith turned towards Lance.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” 

Keith decided to go down the same route as Lance, question-wise. It only seemed fair. 

“What happened to your mom?”

He heard Lance’s breath hitch. A crease formed between Lance’s brows as he stared determinedly up at the ceiling. 

“I don’t know,” Lance breathed, “She just disappeared one day. Right after I was born. No one knows what happened to her. We don’t know where she went or why. We don’t even know if she’s alive or dead.” 

“But didn’t she give you your shell?”

“My sister gave that to me. Rachel did. Rachel said that mom had wanted to give it to me.”

“Oh.” 

In the darkness, Keith felt Lance shifting. Lance was now facing Keith. He pulled his arms around Keith’s waist. 

“Can I-?”

“Sure.”

Lance planted his head under Keith’s chin, against his chest and screwed his eyes shut. Keith held Lance against him. He felt the slow rhythm of Lance’s breathing.

“Do you also want your mom to come back?” 

“Not really.” But sometimes he wondered what she looked like, what characteristics he had picked up from her. He had questions for her, about dad, about why she left, about who he was as her son. 

“Am I your best friend?” Lance asked quietly. 

“You know you are.”

They weren’t playing Truth or Dare anymore. It was too sad of a game. 

“I think you’re my best friend,” Lance said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I usually have a lot of best friends, but I think you’re my bestest. You know all of my secrets. Well almost all of them.”

“What secrets do I not know?”

“I’m not telling you.”

Keith decided this was fair. Lance looked up at Keith. 

“Do you have any secrets that I don’t know?”

Keith had a lot of secrets Lance doesn’t know. 

_Sometimes I scratch my butt when other people aren’t looking. Sometimes, if I think there’s really no one around I also sniff my hand afterwards. One time Adam caught me, and he didn’t say anything but he gave me a really weird look._

There was no way he was telling Lance that one.

_One time, someone at school was talking about scissoring. I didn’t know what that was, so when I got home I googled it. I clicked on the first link I saw and it was a video with people doing gross stuff and then a bunch of pop-up ads started coming up and I couldn’t close them. I didn’t know what to do, so I just unplugged the entire computer and ran off. The next day Shiro and Adam were trying to figure out why the computer wasn’t working and it was because the computer was unplugged, but I didn’t want to tell them what had happened so I didn’t say anything._

That also seemed like a bad one to tell. 

_When I saw you for the first time all I wanted to do was follow you around and stare at you. I wanted to see all of your expressions; what you looked like when you were happy and when you were sad. I wanted to know everything about you. I get really annoyed when you pay too much attention to people who aren’t me. Sometimes, when you’re doing something else and not paying attention to me, I just stare at you for a really long time. I’m not sure why, but it makes me feel like there’s a ton of butterflies flying around in my stomach. Weird right?_

Keith didn’t even know where to begin with that one. 

“No,” he said, finally. 

Suddenly, Lance grabbed his hand.

“It’s time,” he whispered. He pointed to the clock next to his bed which read 12am.

The two boys scooted off the bed, and together, they tiptoed down the hall.

——

_8 years old_

After Shiro and Adam left, Lance and Keith dropped Keith’s sleepover bag off in Lance’s tiny bedroom and rolled out a sleeping bag from Lance’s closet. Keith admired at the drawings of dinosaurs and aliens hanging on Lance’s walls and the glow-in-the-dark stars dotting his ceiling. 

Lance gave Keith a short tour of the house, pointing out the various bedrooms, bathrooms, and common areas around his home. 

They raced down the hardwood hallways of the house in their socks, played Mario Kart, and watched TV while stuffing their faces with popcorn. 

The boys even snuck into Rachel and Veronica’s room so they could use the bunk bed for a game of “parachuting.” To play parachuting, Lance and Keith leapt from the top bunk, usually while screaming, and attempted land on the ground with both feet. Their game was, unfortunately, cut short by Veronica. Keith had just launched himself from the top bunk, arms splayed out behind him in a V, when Lance’s sister threw open the door. 

“What are you _doing?”_

Keith shrieked and landed on the ground on all fours. He rolled into the dresser with a loud thud. 

“Just playing,” Lance said innocently, from the top bunk. 

“Get _out, out_ of my room,” Veronica growled, “Also, I could hear you guys crashing around from the living room. You’re _way_ too loud.”

And with that their game ended. 

That night, it rained. Heavy rain. Drops beat down on the roof and slid down the window panes in thick rivulets. The sky was completely black, obscuring any moonlight with thick clouds. 

Keith lay asleep, tucked snugly into Lance’s sleeping bag. The house was silent and dark; the only noise came from the storm outside. Keith had been dreaming about nothing in particular, but his eyes fluttered open as he blearily sensed the slightest movement above him. 

He heard bed springs creaking softly and felt a rush of cool air waft past him as Lance stepped over his sleeping bag. 

“Lance,” Keith mumbled sleepily, “Where are you going?” But Lance didn’t reply. _He’s probably going to the bathroom,_ Keith thought, before drifting back to sleep. 

—-

Keith woke up and groggily rubbed his eyes. It was still dark. The rhythmic pounding of the rain sounded from above and the ceiling was dotted with glow-in-the-dark constellations. He was at Lance’s house. 

Lance. 

Keith hurriedly sat up and stared up at the empty bed next to him. Perched on a bedside table, a digital clock read 2:30am. How long had he been asleep? How long had Lance been gone?

In his half-awake state, Keith was suddenly plagued with the irrational fear that Lance had decided he did hate Keith and was escaping the small confines of his room in order to get away. 

Anxiety rose in his chest as he rolled out of his sleeping bag to look for Lance. 

Keith crept into the hallway. 

All the doorways were dark. Lance was not in any bathrooms, and probably not in any other bedrooms. 

In the dark, Keith almost walked into an open closet door. 

The closet mostly held coats and umbrellas, but at the bottom of the closet was an open wooden chest. The chest was empty but a small amount of light seemed to emanate from within. Small sparks of light drifted up into Keith’s face. 

Keith carefully closed the closet door and ventured into the living room. Both the living room and the kitchen appeared to be empty. 

But the front door was slightly open. Lance was an idiot. He had run away and hadn’t even bothered to close the door. He’d run away and he hadn’t even told Keith. He hadn’t even left a note. 

Keith silently put on his shoes and jacket and ran outside. 

He was immediately pelted by the pouring rain. Keith leaped down the wooden steps that lead from the house to the beach. At the bottom of the steps he could see a trail of tiny footprints pressed into the sand. 

“Lance!” Keith choked out.

The tiny footsteps lead straight into the surf. 

Keith was not a crier. But he felt an aching, desperate lump forming in his throat.

“Lance!” He screamed into the ocean. 

He knew going into the ocean on a rainy, windy night was a death wish. He knew that he should probably call Lance’s parents, who could alert the coast guard or the police.

But he also desperately wanted to believe that his only friend was lying only a few feet under the water, still salvageable. 

Rain, tears, and snot combined on his face as he walked into the waves. 

Freezing ocean water soaked the bottom of Keith’s pajama pants. Raindrops stung him from above. Keith was unbearably cold. He leaned over, his teeth chattering. 

Keith was waist deep when an unusually large wave crashed over his head, and then he was tripping, falling underwater and being swept out to sea. 

He was completely submerged in dark water, salt burning his eyes and nose. He was choking and the waves continued to push him out to sea. 

He was going to die. An idiot boy chasing after another idiot boy. Both swept away by the current. 

He tried blindly to swim towards the surface of the water. But he was too weak, confused, disoriented. 

Waves crashed around him from all sides filling his body with even more salt water. Keith gurgled resigning himself to his fate. 

But then a pair of hands grabbed him from under his shoulders. He was quickly being pulled upwards in the water. 

They broke the ocean’s surface and Keith was choking, coughing, gasping for air while fat raindrops burst on his head. He was struggling to force the water out of his lungs until he wasn’t. His chest, which had been on fire suddenly felt perfectly fine. His eyes, nose, and throat stopped burning. All that was left were his tears. 

“Keith!” 

Lance had been the one who had pulled Keith to the surface. He was treading water perfectly, holding Keith in his arms. And was wearing a thick hooded robe. The robe, which seemed to be made of fur, was so blindingly white, it gave off a strange, unearthly glow.

“What are you wearing?” Keith asked wearily. 

“A seal pelt. It helps me turn into a seal so I can swim in the ocean at night. I’m a selkie!” 

Keith nodded blearily at Lance’s enthusiasm. He was just happy to be alive. He was just happy Lance was alive. 

All around Lance and Keith, seals were popping up out of the water and swimming in loops around the two boys, seemingly unafraid. They were chubby with slick, dark grey fur. One seal swam up to Keith and sniffed him, its dark snout twitching in curiosity. 

“These are my friends,” Lance explained to Keith, “We go swimming together at night.” 

“Y-you can talk to seals?” 

“I can turn into a seal,” Lance said proudly, “That’s what a selkie is.”

“I-I thought you were dead, that you had just walked into the ocean by yourself,” Keith glared up at Lance with red-rimmed eyes. 

Lance grinned.

“You mean like you just did? I’m definitely not that stupid.” 

Lance seemed unaware of the near heart attack he had given Keith. The absolute hell that had been Keith’s past hour. Angry tears welled up and spilled down Keith’s cheeks.

“Keith! Why are you crying?” Lance enveloped Keith in a damp hug, his legs weaving between Keith’s in the water. 

“Don’t cry, I’m here now. And I promise I won’t leave you again.” 

This only made Keith cry harder, sobs wracking his entire body. His face crumpled into an ugly reddened mess, with emotion he couldn’t put words to. 

One of the seals barked at Lance. 

“Uh, Keith, my friends want to keep on swimming. Would you mind waiting on the shore for me? I promise I’ll come back. I swear.” 

Keith nodded tearfully. 

Lance pressed his forehead to Keith’s.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” Keith gulped. 

Lance smiled gently.

“Okay, you got this Keith, just hold on tight.”

And Lance dove back underwater. Keith braced himself, but the water didn’t sting this time, allowing him to leave his eyes wide open. He was still holding his breath, but he wasn’t running out of air as quickly as before. The water even felt less cold. 

Lance’s seal friends followed behind the two boys, their bodies shooting like bullets through the ocean. The same tiny sparks of light that had swarmed from the chest in the closet flew around Lance, creating channels of light in the seawater. The magic flowed in and around Lance, illuminating the path in front and in back of him. 

As Lance swam, Keith felt Lance’s body slowly begin to change in his arms. A white light spread up Lance’s spine and then blanketed his robe, which began closely melding itself to Lance’s body. In a burst of light, Lance transformed into a white seal pup, with tiny ridged flippers, whiskers, and a pointed snout. Only the blue color of his eyes stayed the same. 

Keith clung tightly to his newly transformed friend who twisted playfully through the water, winding around kelp beds and schools of fish, all illuminated against the currents selkie magic. 

Finally, Lance stopped in front of a large rock formation. He swam upwards, breaking the water surface. In front of him was a rocky cliff face, possible to climb from the water’s edge. Seal Lance seemed unable to talk, but he swam up to the cliffside and nudged Keith onto it. The rocky overhang was only a few feet and Keith easily scrambled up. 

When Keith had situated himself comfortably on the outcropping, he turned back to face the ocean. Treading water, Lance was once again in his human form. 

“Hey, please don’t tell anyone I’m a selkie. Dad would freak out if he knew.”

Keith nodded. He could do that. 

“I’m gonna go swim, but I’ll come back for you when I’m done. I promise.”

Keith must have looked unsure, because Lance swam up to the edge of the outcropping and held out his hands. Keith took them in his own. Lance gave Keith’s hands a gentle squeeze, before letting go. 

“Promise.”

And then he pulled his hood back over his head and dove beneath the waves. 

–––

Years later, Keith would cringe at the memory of that night. Why did he run outside into a rainstorm in pursuit of Lance? Why did he decide to search for his friend in the ocean by himself? He chalked it up to being an impulsive 8-year-old running on expired excitement from the day before, but even then, his actions seemed disproportionately stupid and reckless. 

Why did he walk so far out to sea? After he was saved, why did he passively sit on the rock outcropping by the ocean, waiting for Lance to return while freezing in his already-soaked pajamas? 

Waiting for Lance turned out to be a disastrous decision. It lead to him shuffling back into Lance’s house at 4am, dripping a trail of water from the front door to the kitchen. It lead to Lance using up an entire roll of paper towels as he tried to conceal Keith’s path, culminating in a giant paper towel fort around Keith’s feet. It lead to Keith standing naked and shivering in the dark for half an hour while, Lance, perfectly dry from his magical seal pelt, pushed random buttons on the dryer in an attempt to dry Keith’s clothes. It lead to him and Lance getting caught while trying to run a bath for Keith at 4am. It lead to a lecture on the dangers of using a blow dryer while taking a bath and the importance of reading warning labels and why was Keith taking a bath at 4am anyway and if he really wanted to take a bath couldn’t he at least wait until normal waking hours? And why were they using _Veronica’s_ towels? Why not use Lance’s towels because Keith was _Lance’s friend?_ And why was the kitchen trash filled with paper towels? Were they _really_ trying to fix a leak they saw springing up spontaneously from the kitchen floor? 

And as if the clammy, cold, naked discomfort and the hour-long lecture weren’t enough, Keith came down with a fever the next day that lasted the entire week. 

Yet, despite the complete disaster that was the end of Keith’s first sleepover, Keith supposed it was a turning point in his friendship with Lance— the day they became best friends with Keith being the guardian to Lance’s biggest secret.

**Author's Note:**

> When they get married, Keith and Lance will have a man wedding with guns and knives and no one can convince me otherwise.
> 
> I decided to get the Tragic Backstories™ out of the way from the start because they're something the characters themselves have known about each other for a long time. I hope it doesn't diminish the angst buildup later on.
> 
> Please! Leave comments! TELL ME WHAT I'M DOING WRONG! I'M NEW TO THIS! *sweats profusely*


End file.
